


ashes, ashes

by dragonsinparis



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 09:46:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonsinparis/pseuds/dragonsinparis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things go a little differently at the Boiling Rock.  As it turns out, sometimes one choice can change everything.  Then again, sometimes a different one can change it back again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ashes, ashes

You start making lists on the way home.

It's past midnight the day after the escape that you get a new balloon. You spend the impossibly long day between sitting on the rocky shores outside the wall. The water is warm there, but not boiling. The prison itself, even the wide and open parts, is so humid that it feels like swimming in sweat and it smells like almost-rotten eggs. You can't imagine how uncomfortable the guards are in their heavy armor.

You take some paper with you. You mean to draw Mai, but everything you try looks wrong. You crumple up each attempt and throw it into the ocean. Eventually you spread out a new, clean sheet. You mark it. You pause, think, mark it again. You open another new sheet. After staring at it for a full minute, you mark that one too.

You get on the balloon. You travel home. Nobody talks to you.

Azula is curious about the lists, but she thinks nothing of them. She probably assumes it’s a counting game you’re using to distract yourself. After all, the two scrolls only have singular marks on them (twenty-three on the first, two on the second) and she never gave you much credit where academics were concerned. Nevermind that your marks were always good - better than Mai’s, even, because she would get bored so fast and stare out the windows, twirling the brush like one of her knives, whereas you would turn it into a game, work at it until you sorted out how to play. Azula got better marks than both of you, but that didn’t really count. None of the teachers were about to tell Azula she was wrong. It was a testament to her natural intelligence that she learned anything at all.

But either way, you remind yourself, the fire nation princess is never wrong.

You look down at the second sheet, mark it a third time.

Azula is kind (by her standards, anyway) and terrifying by turns. She does not have it in her to be grateful, or even to appreciate your loyalty. It’s fear, you both know it, but it’s all the same to Azula so it may as well be all the same to you too. But she knows enough to know you could have chosen differently. 

Her paranoia has climbed. However temporarily, she has doubts about you and she turns - as she always has - to fear in order to keep you contained. Fortunately for you, it isn’t long before she realizes that there is little point. If you couldn’t stand up to her then, there’s nothing left that will turn you against her.

Why bother, anyway? You were never really one for vengeance. You always only wanted to stand up, stand out, be glorious. The circus offered that, but it required no courage. You’d never thought about what was worth dying for and what wasn’t. How brave are you supposed to be when you're fourteen and unstoppable?

You wonder if you’d have been braver if you weren’t stuck on the ground, if you weren’t practically embedded in that damn stone at your feet.

*

_She only screams once, and not loudly; she never really was the type to indulge in anything so rawly rooted in the the expression of sensation._

_You can’t help but wonder if she ever had a chance to sleep with Zuko._

_He can’t have heard her then, and somehow that makes it harder because you know that Zuko - angry, awkward, perpetually lost Zuko - would have been able to do what you couldn’t; it wouldn’t have even occurred to him not to._

_You wonder if he knew, as all of you watched her set the trolly back in motion from high above the boiling lake, that he was seeing her for the last time. You wonder if he’d have turned around if he could, or if his newfound cause was more important. He’d already left her behind once, hadn’t he? He’d left you all behind._

_You wonder what he’ll tell the Avatar. You wonder if he’ll guess. You wonder if it will change the way he feels about firebending. You wonder if he’ll lie awake at night, wondering what it felt like for her._

_But you remember his scar - which has never marked him in your eyes until now - and you realize he doesn’t have to wonder. And when you weep then, great huge sobs choking on steam and terror and ash, your princess and her guards think it’s because your friend is dead in front of you._

*

It’s less than a month before you see Zuko again, but in those spare few weeks he leaves a destructive trail of fire across the nation named for it, venting his grief. There’d been something different about his bending at the Boiling Rock, he’d been calm and sure in a way you hadn’t seen. Now the fury that always used to drive him has returned, and it isn’t muddled up in confusion and shame. He looks ready to explode with it.

Azula is waiting for him.

She’s horrible and triumphant; past her paranoia and ready to ignore the yawning abyss below her own feet in order to use her brother’s grief against him. But she underestimated its magnitude and for a moment you forget the comet entirely, even as you realize they’ll burn the whole palace down.

He’s brought the water tribe girl with him. You wonder at that; you’re briefly furious with him for carnal sins your imagination draws up. How could the Zuko in your head betray her like that, when she’d only just died saving his life?

Azula’s drawn the same conclusion like a blade, and she’s ready to make him bleed with it. “Really, brother, I feel this is a step down for you. She’s not nearly as pretty as your last girlfriend. If you’d had the sense to stay, you could have at least had a concubine or something. Make sure you didn’t catch anything, screwing away your sorrows.”

He watches her, silent. He doesn’t flinch; you don’t know if he can beat her in battle but he’s beyond her snide remarks in a way he never had been before. The only person you knew who could ignore her like that was - well, was obvious. You can suddenly see Mai behind him in the shadows from the torches, that effortless mask, and your heart leaps even as you know it’s a lie.

You know Azula will see it too, that it will make her furious, but you can’t pull your eyes away from Zuko. You’re certain he only has eyes for her, but his gaze slides outward, over Lo and Li, and just for a moment you meet his eyes. You’re ready for almost anything - fury, betrayal, all the cracks and scorn he’s shrugged off at you before and after his banishment - but you don’t see your own reflection there, even in passing. Whether you’re the traitor or just the circus freak you’re merely incidental now, and after everything that still burns.

“Well, Brother?” 

It’s a moment before Zuko replies, although the time you spend waiting for him to speak hovers without alternative, almost unnoticeable. “I challenge you to an Agni Kai.”

Azula is watching his eyes, so she doesn’t see it - you’re sure she doesn’t. You’re watching his mouth, so you do: the tiny glow between his teeth, the way it doesn’t fade as he inhales. He’s _breathing_ fire, and neither of them seem to notice. Your gut clenches up, but it’s also a relief. This battle is inevitable, but its outcome isn’t. 

Azula has always relished fighting Zuko, but much of that has always stemmed from a desire to humiliate him and the simple joy of fighting an opponent skilled enough to make her work for her victory but never skilled enough to take it from her. Now he has more motivation than she ever will. Both siblings loved Mai, but no matter how much more time Azula had with her or what might have been twisted up inside her head at the Boiling Rock, there’s no denying the spectrum between the the royal siblings as they prepare to square off. The ghost has chosen her side, and they both know it.

But she’s only a ghost, and that may not be enough to tip the balance. Not like...

Azula descends the steps to meet her brother on the battlefield. They stand facing one another. You’re almost surprised to notice the water tribe girl; you’d forgotten she was there until she says something softly to Zuko, touches his arm and steps away, back toward the bison. You wonder if you’ll have to fight her later. You haven’t fought anyone since it happened. You don’t know if you still can, if all that training hasn’t melted away since the one opening you didn’t take.

The prince and princess come together in mirror waves of fire that leave the skin on your face hot and stretched thin.

You think of your lists. 

Twenty-three different moves you could have used that would have saved Mai.

Three that would have killed Azula.

All treason. All simple, full physical motion that would have saved her, even for a moment until the guards bore down on you both. It’s all very well to know what you might have done then, but what can you do now?

The guards and priests flee as the battle rages and the walls catch, but you stay. You’re able to dodge the flames so easily, so naturally, you practically don’t notice - no more than you would notice unbent earth, or water, or air. The fire’s always been there. 

The water tribe girl has more trouble. For the first few minutes she’s able to stay more or less in the same place, near where the bison landed, but even though the castle - and especially the open courtyard - were designed to have as few flammable materials as possible in their construction, whoever built it didn’t exactly have Sozin’s comet in mind. Banners and beams go up and the fire spiders its way around you all, and the girl - is her name Katara? - is forced eventually to circle around and make her way up to the veranda you’ve been watching from. 

You brace yourself - not for a fight, but for a rebuke. It isn’t long in coming. “Why are you still here?”

“Why are you?” You reply irritably, without turning to look at her.

“I meant why are you still with Azula, after what she did?” It’s phrased as a question, but you know perfectly well it’s an accusation.

“Where would I go?” You remember absently that this girl was the first to call you a circus freak after you came back to work for Azula. How would she even know? Is it just some singular, defining characteristic written on your forehead that follows you around because there aren’t six other people with your face to make you feel like who you are doesn’t matter?

You can’t go back to the circus and you can’t go home and it’s not as if this girl would have given you refuge before or after what happened at the Boiling Rock. 

You wish you had Azula’s way with words. You want to say something really cutting but you can’t think of anything. You were never any good at that. Mostly you just want to yell _you weren’t even **there**_ and kick her in the shin.

Either way, she doesn’t have an answer to that. You don’t know whether to be relieved or burst into tears.

You can tell - you can always tell - that Azula’s beginning to wear down. Zuko’s still riding high on his rage, but that’s also making him sloppy.

Thirty minutes in they stand facing one another, breathing heavily. You listen to the fire. You listen to how it changes; you know before it’s even visible that the fire has condensed, shifted towards air, curved towards lightning.

You know, from rumor and Azula’s deflection of the topic, that Zuko can redirect lightning. But you watch people, the way they fight, and he needs a peace to pull it off that he isn’t carrying anymore. He’s about to die, because Azula could never reconcile being willing to kill Mai but not Zuko, even if he is her brother.

You’ll tell yourself later that you did it for her, for Mai, because she would be so irritated if she went to all that trouble for him just to have him die a few weeks later. Or maybe you’ll tell yourself that all your regret propelled you forward, pooled in the balls of your feet and exploded, that even if it was a mistake at least it wasn’t the _same_ mistake. 

You might try telling yourself you did it because it was the right thing to do, but you’re still not sure about what right even really means and even if you weren’t, it wouldn’t really be why you fly down the stairs to the square now and, with four light taps, bring the unstoppable fire nation princess down.

For a moment everything is still, even the flames. 

Zuko stares at you, his good eye wide. The water-tribe girl is still up on the veranda, but she’s probably just as surprised; despite her inclination to lecture you, she never would have believed that you would do anything other than what Azula told you to do.

The guards surround you and the bison, still as a rock in the face of the fire, leaps into action. Zuko and the girl - _Katara_ , you remind yourself again - turn in perfect synchrony, back to back, the way you used to be able to with Mai. They make quick work of the guards but the bells are tolling and more will be coming. 

Azula is stirring at your feet; you haven’t moved an inch. Zuko pushes Katara toward the bison and turns to you. “Come on!”

You look up at him, but you have no idea what to say. How can you leave her here alone?

“Ty Lee, she will _kill you!_ ” He doesn’t say _just like she killed Mai_. Then again, he doesn’t have to. The ghost is behind him, blank and almost-bored as always, but she gives you a little smile and tilts her head just the smallest bit toward him. 

You reach out and you pray that the ghost knows it’s not because you’re afraid and it’s not because you want to leave her behind, either of them behind, but because you can only hope it will finish what she started. The only way to save what’s left of Zuko is to let him save someone, even if it’s you. You don’t know what will happen to the Fire Nation, but why should that matter to you now when it never has before?

You touch his fingertips and the eastern sky glows red, then blue.


End file.
